Empty Desk by the Bed

Thomas, turn off the brass desk light.
I only have one drawer to clear.
The kettle whistled half past three.
I didn't want to leave you here.
You worked forty years for the rail.
They gave me this gold pocket chain.
Come back under the heavy quilt.
I have to catch the six o'clock train.

All the promises we made
All the quietly spoken words
Beside the empty desk by the bed
While the morning wakes the birds

Why did you fold my winter coat?
It's packed inside the cedar crate.
You know I need it for the cold.
The driver's waiting at the gate.
Why is a yellow taxi here?
It's taking me to Saint Marie.
You swore you'd never sell the house.
The bank won't keep a man like me.

All the promises we made
All the quietly spoken words
Beside the empty desk by the bed
While the morning wakes the birds

Thomas, look at me just once.
The brass bulb flickers and goes dark.
I'm lying right behind your chair.
The rain is falling on the park.
You answered every word I said.
I spoke to what was left behind.
I died before the frost had set.
And left this shadow in your mind.

All the promises we made
All the quietly spoken words
Beside the empty desk by the bed
While the morning wakes the birds

A horn is sounding down below.
He takes the suitcase by the door.
He lays the brass key on the wood.
His boots are heavy on the floor.
He shuts the lock and doesn't turn.
The empty room is filled with gray.